Chapter 63: Eternal Encounter Song (Part 2)
Heavy snow blanketed Yun Jing as Zhang Jing was executed.
Emperor Zheng Yuan woke up the next day and, supported by Imperial Concubine Wu, stood by the window for a while. Snow remained unmelted on the green tiles, covering everything in a layer of white.
The Emperor suddenly coughed up blood.
“Your Majesty!” Imperial Concubine Wu was alarmed and immediately ordered Liang Shen Fu to summon the Imperial Physicians. She and the palace maids helped the Emperor back to his bed.
“Summon Zheng Jian…”
The Emperor’s chest heaved.
Liang Shen Fu immediately bowed. “Your Majesty, I’ll send someone right away!”
The Chief Imperial Physician arrived at Qing He Palace first and knelt by the dragon bed to take the Emperor’s pulse. Zheng Jian, the Hanlin Academy Reader, was brought in by Liang Shen Fu at this moment.
“Your subject, Zheng Jian, pays his respects to Your Majesty.”
Zheng Jian bowed outside the screen.
“You submitted the memorial about Zhang Jing illegally accepting thousands of acres of fertile land.” The Emperor lay in bed, his eyes half-open, not looking at the person behind the screen. “Minister Zheng, did you consider that your memorial would lead to Zhang Jing’s death?”
Zheng Jian’s heart tightened. Today’s situation was indeed unexpected. When he submitted the memorial, he never thought it would result in Zhang Jing being sentenced to death.
“Your subject… is apprehensive.”
Zheng Jian’s lips trembled slightly.
“You should be apprehensive.”
The Emperor sneered from behind the screen, then coughed violently. “Meng Yun Xian still has feelings for him, his student He Tong has always valued him as his teacher, and those young people who wept for him at the execution grounds yesterday, they probably all want to eat your flesh, drink your blood, and tear you apart.”
“Your Majesty!”
Zheng Jian trembled and knelt down.
The Emperor ignored him, simply raising a hand. Imperial Concubine Wu and the Chief Imperial Physician emerged from behind the screen and went outside.
Only Liang Shen Fu remained beside the Emperor, attending to him as he took a pill to alleviate his headache.
“Zhang Jing sought death. Your memorial merely gave him the opportunity. He defied me, he attacked me, all for the sake of dying. You thought you were manipulating him, but you didn’t know you were already his pawn. Now, rumors are spreading that Zhang Jing died unjustly, and that snowfall is the best proof.”
The Emperor’s voice was tinged with a weary hoarseness. “Someone must have remembered his dying words. He wanted to use his life to make those who believed in him also believe in his treasonous student.”
“Your Majesty, Xu He Xue’s betrayal with 30,000 Jing’an soldiers is irrefutable. When Censor Jiang executed Xu He Xue in Yongzhou, all the subjects of the Great Qi rejoiced. Now, based solely on Zhang Jing’s dying words, without concrete evidence, it’s simply not credible!”
Zheng Jian kowtowed. “Your subject believes there are also suspicious points in the Daizhou grain supply case!”
Silence suddenly fell upon the hall.
Zheng Jian was drenched in sweat, his heart filled with fear, time stretching out endlessly.
Liang Shen Fu carefully wiped the Emperor’s beard and stepped aside. Emperor Zheng Yuan finally opened his eyes slightly, looking at Zheng Jian kneeling outside the screen. His gloomy expression softened slightly, replaced by a hint of satisfaction. “Then interrogate Qian Wei Yin again. Go with the Ministry of Justice.”
The Emperor’s tone was calm, yet intimidating. Zheng Jian’s back was cold with sweat, his forehead pressed against the icy floor, his beard trembling. “Your subject… obeys the decree.”
The snow remained unmelted. Today’s cold was unlike late March.
Zheng Jian left Qing He Palace, feeling weak. Ding Jin, the Supervising Censor, who had been seeking an audience with the Emperor but hadn’t been granted entry, supported him as they descended the steps together.
Ding Jin lifted his robe slightly. “Is Minister Zheng already panicking?”
“His Majesty wants me to interrogate Qian Wei Yin with the Ministry of Justice.”
Zheng Jian’s face was pale. “What do you think that means?”
Hearing this, Ding Jin looked at him sideways. “Why ask, Minister Zheng? His Majesty has ordered you to interrogate Qian Wei Yin, so you interrogate him. Surely you know where your future lies?”
Zheng Jian was considered a close associate of the Emperor. The Emperor, having been manipulated by Zhang Jing, was now filled with uncontainable rage. The Emperor’s words today meant that Zheng Jian would bear the responsibility.
Zhang Jing’s death, yesterday’s snow, had sparked rumors throughout Yun Jing. Zheng Jian now had only one path: to make Qian Wei Yin, currently imprisoned, change his testimony.
As long as Qian Wei Yin admitted that the Daizhou grain supply case was fabricated, he could use that to overturn Zhang Jing’s previous memorial.
“I hope Qian Wei Yin knows what’s good for him.”
Zheng Jian sighed.
In late March of the twentieth year of Zheng Yuan’s reign, the Hanlin Academy Reader and the Ministry of Justice interrogated Qian Wei Yin, the criminal official from Fengzhou, for ten days. But to Zheng Jian’s surprise, no matter how severe the torture, Qian Wei Yin refused to yield.
“Qian Wei Yin! I am interrogating you under imperial decree! Why do you still refuse to confess why you gave false testimony?” In the dark prison cell, Zheng Jian slammed the table, glaring at the middle-aged official tied to a wooden frame, his body covered in wounds.
He deliberately mentioned the Emperor to exert pressure.
“The crime I confess to is not perjury, but embezzling official grain and silver…” Qian Wei Yin’s face was half-hidden by his disheveled hair. He breathed with difficulty, watching Zheng Jian’s face darken. He suddenly laughed, blood frothing at the corners of his mouth. He coughed, then spat. “Minister Zhang sacrificed himself for his beliefs, his heart and his virtue were pure and bright! I am a criminal official, misled by selfish desires for over a decade, unworthy of the Confucian classics I read, unworthy of being an official! But now I don’t want to be wrong anymore, and I don’t want Minister Zhang’s reputation to be tarnished after his death because of me!”
“Every word on the confession is true! I, Qian Wei Yin, confess to this crime, not to perjury! There’s no way to atone for my sins in this life, only death!”
Qian Wei Yin shouted, his eyes reddening.
If only he hadn’t been swayed by a moment of weakness back then. If only he had thought more about the Four Sentences of Heng Qu he had repeatedly read during his years of studying.
To establish a heart for heaven and earth, to establish a life for the people. To inherit the lost teachings of past sages, and to create peace for all future generations.
These words of the sages had once stirred his blood. He had envisioned himself becoming a good official, but later, as an official in Daizhou, when faced with money and his own life, he forgot all of this.
One wrong step led to another.
But at least, now, he dared not make another mistake and was no longer afraid of death.
Qian Wei Yin refused to change his testimony until his death. The interrogation by Zheng Jian and the Ministry of Justice ended abruptly. Based on Qian Wei Yin’s confession and the evidence he provided, Emperor Zheng Yuan punished the dozen officials involved in the Daizhou grain supply case.
Over a dozen officials were executed. Emperor Zheng Yuan could no longer avoid the Daizhou grain supply case. In early April, he issued an edict admitting his fault, ordering Daizhou to rebuild the Taoist palace and provide shelter for the hungry and displaced, thus informing all his subjects.
“Since the edict of self-blame, His Majesty hasn’t attended court for three days.”
Pei Zhi Yuan supported Meng Yun Xian as they walked into the back hall of the Department of State Affairs. After Zhang Jing’s death, Meng Yun Xian had fallen ill and only managed to attend court today.
“See how formidable Chong Zhi was? He wanted the Emperor to issue an edict admitting his fault, and even though the Emperor was unwilling, he had no choice but to do so.” Meng Yun Xian sat down in a folding chair, then noticed someone curled up in the chair beside him. He was startled, then realized it was He Tong, the Hanlin scholar.
“Scholar He, why are you sleeping here?” Pei Zhi Yuan patted He Tong’s shoulder. “Minister Meng is here, wake up.”
Hearing “Minister Meng,” He Tong opened his eyes and, turning around, saw Meng Yun Xian sitting beside him. He immediately stood up and bowed, his appearance disheveled, his official robes wrinkled from sleeping in the chair.
Meng Yun Xian looked at his messy beard. “Why haven’t you shaved?”
“These past few days, besides attending to Teacher’s funeral arrangements, I’ve been organizing the poetry drafts he gave me, so I forgot about these things.” He Tong’s voice was hoarse from lack of sleep.
“You’re still young, you shouldn’t overwork yourself like this. Chong Zhi wouldn’t want to see you neglecting yourself,” Meng Yun Xian said.
Hearing his teacher mentioned, He Tong’s eyes moistened. He swallowed and looked up at Meng Yun Xian. “Minister Meng…”
“Do you know whose poetry drafts Teacher asked me to organize?”
Meng Yun Xian paused. “Aren’t they his own?”
He Tong shook his head. “No.”
“They are Xu He Xue’s.”
This name, which he had once written in his own articles, condemning him, now filled him with confusion. He looked at Meng Yun Xian. “Minister Meng, I used to hate him. If it weren’t for his treason, my teacher wouldn’t have been exiled, and my mother and brother wouldn’t have died on the way… But the poetry drafts Teacher asked me to organize before his death are all of Xu He Xue’s poems and essays, all copied by Teacher himself.”
“I want to ask Minister Meng, what did Teacher mean…”
He Tong remembered the execution platform that day, remembered his teacher’s words as recounted by others. His throat tightened, his voice suddenly hoarse.
“You should understand your teacher. He wouldn’t have made such a claim without solid evidence,” Meng Yun Xian continued. After a moment of silence, sunlight streaming through the window fell on the armrest of his chair. He looked down at it. “He Tong, your teacher was indeed implicated and exiled because of him, but before that, it was your teacher and I who harmed him first.”
He Tong was shocked.
“Back then, when Chong Zhi and I implemented the new policies, we not only made countless enemies in the court, but were also hated by the imperial clan. Wu Dai and his ilk made a big fuss about our empowering military officials, which hindered Xu He Xue at the border. Although we still don’t know who framed him and the 30,000 Jing’an soldiers, it’s hard to say that Chong Zhi and I weren’t partly responsible.”
Meng Yun Xian’s grief almost crushed him, for Zhang Jing, and for the young general who had gone to the border and never returned. “He Tong, listen to your teacher. Preserve Xu He Xue’s last trace in this world…”
***
Ni Su had previously cured Madam Zhang’s illness. In the past few days, Madam Zhang had spoken about her to her neighbors, and one of the women came to ask Ni Su to treat her.
Ni Su visited the woman’s house for several days to provide treatment. She carried the ball of light in her small wicker medicine basket. Even during the day, she would carry a lamp when she went out, ignoring the strange looks from others.
“It’s broad daylight, Miss, why are you carrying a lamp?”
The woman’s daughter-in-law saw her out and couldn’t help but ask.
“Waiting for someone.”
Ni Su replied curtly, ignoring the daughter-in-law’s puzzled look. She carried her medicine box in one hand and the glazed lamp in the other, turning to walk towards the end of the alley.
The medicine basket was small, slung across her shoulder. She glanced at the light inside from time to time. It hadn’t dissipated, but it was very faint. She lit many candles every day, but it didn’t become any brighter.
Xu He Xue.
She thought of his name.
Ni Su was only one or two years old when the nineteen-year-old general was executed in Yongzhou. She had heard his name in her childhood, portrayed by storytellers as a demonic, vicious traitor.
Ni Su’s impression of him had been limited to this, but from Meng Yun Xian’s miscellaneous notes, she read about his past, before all the accusations.
The Xu clan of Qingya Prefecture was a prestigious family, once sharing power with the Emperor during the previous dynasty. Even after a century of decline, the Xu family maintained strict traditions, their children trained in both literary and martial arts.
Xu He Xue’s father, Xu Xian, was a renowned calligrapher in the Great Qi, but when the barbarians invaded Pingjiang, he was appointed General Tian Ce, defending the front lines for nearly ten years, delaying the Danqiu barbarians’ plan to advance through Pingjiang into the northern territories for nearly a decade.
Xu Xian died from illness and injuries. After his death, Pingjiang fell to the barbarians. Xu He Xue, only seven years old, went to the capital with his mother, Lady Zhou, and his elder brother, Xu Qing Yu.
The previous Emperor was still alive at that time and arranged a marriage between Xu Qing Yu and Princess Wenduan. Xu He Xue lived in the Princess’s residence with his mother.
Xu Qing Yu was Princess Wenduan’s husband and the Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Justice.
Xu He Xue became Zhang Jing’s student at the age of seven. When he was thirteen, his mother died of illness. At that time, the barbarian army was approaching Qingya Prefecture. Because his mother never forgot his father, even on her deathbed, Xu He Xue took her ashes and returned alone to Qingya Prefecture to bury her with his father, returning safely to the capital amidst the chaos.
At fourteen, he passed the imperial examinations, his name resounding throughout the Great Qi. Just as he was enjoying his youthful success, he heard that Qingya Prefecture had fallen to the barbarians.
His elder brother, Xu Qing Yu, had been sickly since birth, burdened by worries about his family and country for many years. Upon hearing the news of his homeland’s fall, he passed away shortly after.
Just as he was about to enter officialdom, Xu He Xue, after arranging his brother’s funeral with his sister-in-law, resolutely went to the border and joined General Miao Tian Zhao’s Hu Ning Army.
At fifteen, he led seven hundred cavalrymen deep into enemy territory, setting fire to the barbarian camps, inflicting two thousand casualties with only seven hundred men, and capturing Ze Rong, the son of the prince who was supervising the battle from the rear, thus creating a breach in the barbarian ranks for Miao Tian Zhao, who was fighting at the front.
This battle made Xu He Xue famous.
At sixteen, he left the Hu Ning Army and took command of the Jing’an Army, defeating the barbarians at Yinma Lake, personally killing the barbarian prince, Duo Ling, and reclaiming a thousand miles of Yan Pass.
At seventeen, he defended Ju Han Pass, making the city impregnable. Three battles made the barbarians terrified, daring not to advance further into the northern Han territories.
At nineteen, he was granted the title of General Yu Jie, commanding the three armies of Yongzhou. This was the year of his greatest fame, and also the year his noble spirit and pure heart were trampled into the mud.
Yongzhou City executed the young General Yu Jie. From then on, no one seemed to remember that he had once charged on horseback, spear in hand, with a pure heart, diligently protecting the Great Qi behind him.
Ni Su read about his life on paper, as if witnessing his youthful spirit and his later downfall.
The official position he held was not the one his teacher had hoped for.
“Ni Su, I truly desire your trust.”
Ni Su pushed open the clinic door, suddenly remembering his words that night. Her grip on the glazed lamp tightened. After a while, she remembered to walk towards the back corridor.
But a knock on the door stopped her in her tracks.
Ni Su turned around. A young man stood outside, wearing a tattered cloak, his hood partially covering his pale face. But his eyes, when he looked up, had unusually large pupils.
Dark and cold.
He stepped across the threshold with stiff movements, his hood slipping slightly, allowing Ni Su to see his face more clearly.
He had no eyebrows.
“I’m looking for Xu He Xue.”
He said slowly.
Ni Su was startled. She looked at him and suddenly remembered a rainy day when a young man had tried to steal her steamed buns. Xu He Xue had told her then that someone without hair and with unusual pupils was a ghost fetus.
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